Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.

When you're socially awkward, you're isolated more than usual, and when you're isolated more than usual, your creativity is less compromised by what has already been said and done. All your hope in life starts to depend on your craft, so you try to perfect it. One reason I stay isolated more than the average person is to keep my creativity as fierce as possible. Being the odd one out may have its temporary disadvantages, but more importantly, it has its permanent advantages.

My name is Celaena Sardothien," she whispered, "and I will not be afraid.

Whatever you do, be fierce, be fearless

You are strong because of what you overcame, brave because of what you defeated, fierce because of what you mastered, and powerful because of what you conquered.

do not let anyone inuntil they love you so fiercely,you have no defense against their love.

With God, you are stronger than your struggles and more fierce than your fears. God provides comfort and strength to those who trust in Him. Be encouraged, keep standing, and know that everything's going to be alright.

...she doesn't have to choose between being gentle or being fierce. Both exist in nature and both exist in her. That's ok. She'll know to nourish them both and when applicable, use each unapologetically.

By nature independent, gay, even exuberant, seductively responsive and given to those spontaneous sallies that sparkle in the conversation of certain daughters of Paris who seem to have inhaled since childhood the pungent breath of the boulevards laden with the nightly laughter of audiences leaving theaters, Madame de Burne's five years of bondage had nonetheless endowed her with a singular timidity which mingled oddly with her youthful mettle, a great fear of saying too much, of going to far, along with a fierce yearning for emancipation and a firm resolve never again to compromise her freedom.

Love is fierce like a lion; once it has entered the heart, it is in vain to resist.

A wolf raised in a jungle is fiercer than a lion reared in a circus.

Everything I have become,everything I will ever accomplishcannot compare to my mostimpressive feat:I have loved youfiercelyand assiduouslywith the very marrowinside my bones. So that when I die, they can crack them to findyou there. So that when I die, they can open me upand see your name tattooed on the wall of my heart.So that when I die, my epitaph will neither commemoratewho I wasnor what I did, but will read:“She loved.And loved. And loved.”And so, I smile now,because that is no small thing.

My heart is its own fierce country where no one else is welcome.

Loving passionately, loving fiercely, loving and taking both good and bad, and at times, the damn near impossible, provides sweet chaos, fueling the pitter patter of the heart...

…having once seen him put forth his strength in battle, methinks I could know him again among a thousand warriors. He rushes into the fray as if he were summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere strength—there seems as if the whole soul and spirit of the champion were given to every blow which he deals upon his enemies. God assoilzie him of the sin of bloodshed! It is fearful, yet magnificent, to behold how the arm and heart of one man can triumph over hundreds.

Brave cubs become fierce lions.

Wolves travel in packs, but the fiercest travel alone.

I, too, was fiercely independent and thought I could make two equal four.

If you can be heartless as the first man who visited the space, then there will be nothing impossibe for you to achieve.

And that’s how it is in this world, boy. Start a tale, just a little tale that should fade and die—take your eye off it for just a moment and when you turn back it’s grown big enough to grab you up in its teeth and shake you. That’s how it is. All our lives are tales. Some spread, and grow in the telling. Others are just told between us and the gods, muttered back and forth behind our days, but those tales grow too and shake us just as fierce.

…having once seen him put forth his strength in battle, methinks I could know him again among a thousand warriors. He rushes into the fray as if he were summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere strength--there seems as if the whole soul and spirit of the champion were given to every blow which he deals upon his enemies. God assoilzie him of the sin of bloodshed! It is fearful, yet magnificent, to behold how the arm and heart of one man can triumph over hundreds.

You are not going to burn out, you're just beginning. You have an entire galaxy of stars burning fiercely inside of you and once the blaze begins it's impossible to annihilate. Passion can't be contained.

I wear a lot of pink cos' seeing pink activates endorphins and energizes my creativity. It is a colour of femininity and fierceness

We have the greatest power through love that can be known. It overcomes everything with its fierce and steady truth, if you can continue to stand in it.You can call love to you, directly from the original stream of consciousness, anytime you feel weak or fearful, and you will be given strength and courage.You can call love to you, directly from the original stream of consciousness, anytime you feel sad or alone, and you will feel embraced and comforted.Call love to you if you feel vulnerable. Feel its purity come to you from the universe and flow round you like a miraculous mother cradling its innocent child.Breathe love in. Say to yourself as you breathe deeply “I love. I am loved.” Say it over and over as you breathe it into yourself and out to the universe, until you really feel and believe that you ARE LOVE.Feel love pour into your lungs as you breathe. Feel it circulate round your body to fill every organ, every limb, and every cell. Vibrate with its radiance, and share it.

I am wild, untameable, the storm and the eye withinAn unpredictable gypsy, with passion beyond your wildest dreamsand unquenchable desiresfor you and you alone...Persistent and fiercely loyal, today I choose to be all of theseand more…Will you still be here tomorrow?

PuppeteerJust because you tell me I'm beautifulAnd that I'm worth your whileYou expect me to feel like the luckiest girl in the worldSo I should lower my head, talk less, smile more, be more polite, bend to your will, kiss your feet?I will snap those stringsStrap on my six inch heelsI will be thunder and lightning and fire and every nightmare you are afraid ofI will be everything you can't handleWhen you wake up choking on your kool-aid of lies, you will not forget the fierce untamable tempestuous wave that swept you away

funny how our heartswere designed to loveso fiercely.but break ever so gently.

She'll be a fierce woman, that one. It'll take a hell of a man to love her right. Be like living with a thunderstorm. Same as her mother. A fierce woman. Force of nature. The kind of woman you just hand on for the ride. The most exciting and the most heartbreaking woman you could ever meet. They don't know their own minds most of the time, but their hearts are so damn big it hurts em inside.

She says she glories in being abandoned

This was true, she knew. Being involved with him gave her the privileged position of knowing him intimately. There were nights when he would wake up sweating, the nightmares returning out of the blue after a peaceful period sometimes weeks long. Growing up in the middle of a fierce civil war could indelibly mark a child. To Mykl, birthdays were always just another year under the belt, where the only reason to celebrate was that you weren’t dead yet. She took his hand, squeezed it tight and led him inside.

She hated the way roses smelled, their sweetness too fragile. She wanted a garden of evergreens. A garden of stones. A garden of swords.

There is this quote that I read a long time ago. A quote that I loved and made me feel strong. It had stuck with me over the years, like so many of the other words by the a

One hit, one moan of fractured air, one solid impact and the man went down.

The angel of God, having secretly Betrothed us one winter day,Watches over our carefree livesWith fixed, darkening eyesBecause of this we love the sky,Keen air, the fresh windAnd the blackening branchesBehind the iron fence.Because of this we love the sternDark city with its many waterways.And we love our partings,And our brief meetings.

She wasn’t going to back down. She knew that. She communicated that. She was here until the death.

It’s just you, Little Monster. Own it or it will own you.